


Warrior

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is horrified when he finds out that the rape fantasy he’s been acting out with Harry, is Harry’s way of punishing himself for being raped.  Draco is horrified and tries to save Harry from his self-destructive behaviour, and he soon realises just how big an impact the attack has had on Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** : [#23](http://hd-hurtfest.livejournal.com/2436.html?thread=12932#t12932) by **Title:** Warrior  
>  **Author** : ???  
>  **Pairing(s)/Character(s)** : Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione  
>  **Disclaimer** : Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Rating** : NC-17  
>  **Warnings (Highlight to view)** :*Past rape, rape fantasy, self-harm, Rape Trauma Syndrome, brief sex scene, language.*  
>  **Word Count** 7700  
>  **Summary** : Draco is horrified when he finds out that the rape fantasy he’s been acting out with Harry, is Harry’s way of punishing himself for being raped. Draco is horrified and tries to save Harry from his self-destructive behaviour, and he soon realises just how big an impact the attack has had on Harry.  
>  **Author Notes** : I used Rape Crisis and Survivors UK websites for the information Draco researches, and the title ‘Warrior’ is from the Demi Lovato song. I also want to say to anyone who has been raped or sexually abused that if you ever need somebody to talk to, I am here for you <3 I know what you’re going through, and I promise it gets easier.

**X**

“No, stop,” Potter whined, arching his back as Draco thrust roughly into him. 

“Shut up,” Draco hissed, clawing at Potter’s hips. “Take my cock like a good little slut.” 

Potter whimpered as his eyelids fluttered – Potter always shut his eyes when they were fucking. 

“Fuck; dig your nails in harder,” Potter demanded, and Draco was quick to comply. 

Not even a month ago, Draco would have never imagined that he would be fucking Harry Potter, and the fact he was acting out a rape fantasy at Potter’s request was even more unbelievable. 

Draco still remembered the day Potter came to him with the unusual request. It had been only a week since they had started what had been dubbed the ‘eighth year’ at Hogwarts when Potter had approached Draco, taking him slightly by surprise; they had spent the previous week avoiding each other rather well. 

“ _How much do you hate me, Malfoy_?” Potter had said. “ _Enough to humiliate me_?”

“ _Of course_ ,” Draco had responded. “ _I dream of humiliating you_.”

“ _Perfect_ ,” was Potter’s reply, and he had given Draco a teasing smile. “ _So I suppose you’d like to fuck me like the little bitch I am_?”

Of course, Draco had been in momentary shock at hearing such dirty words come out of Potter’s mouth, but he had readily agreed. Loathe as he was to admit it, Potter wasn’t bad looking – a bit too skinny, and in need of a good haircut, but otherwise fine – so fucking him wasn’t exactly a chore. And Potter asking to be humiliated and dominated fed perfectly into Draco’s own desires, so he didn’t really see what he had to lose. 

It only took a week for Potter to ask Draco if he would consider acting out a rape fantasy scene with him, and Draco, who had longed to see Potter begging him for mercy, didn’t find it hard to be persuaded. Of course, he would never actually rape somebody in real life – Merlin, no – but Draco liked to feel in control, and acting out a fantasy wasn’t hurting anybody. 

Still, sometimes it felt like Potter had more control over the situation than Draco did. 

“Call – call me a filthy whore,” Potter ordered, writhing underneath Draco. “Fuck, stop it, please.” 

And thank Merlin for safewords – sometimes Potter made the fantasy seem scarily real. 

**X**

“Harry, you need to talk to somebody professional,” Weasley said to his best friend, not noticing that Draco was watching through a gap in a door – well, he had to make sure that Potter wasn’t tricking Draco in order to get him arrested or something. 

“Ron, I’m fine,” Potter insisted, shrugging Weasley’s hand off his shoulder with a shudder. 

“You were screaming again last night,” Weasley responded with a tone of disbelief. “And then you lashed out at me when I woke you up – told me to let you dream it out.” 

“I did not-” Potter started, but he stopped when Weasley held out his arm, though the angle blocked Draco from seeing the apparent injury. “Fuck, Ron; I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Weasley said quickly, bringing his arm back to its natural position. “But Harry, I really wish you would just talk to somebody. I know a lot of us can relate to what you went through in the Final Battle, but what _he_ did to you...” 

“Quiet,” Potter hissed, glancing around the corridor which prompted Draco to duck behind the door. “Look, we’re going to be late meeting Hermione.” 

Draco listened to their footsteps gradually getting quieter as they strode down the corridor, before deeming it safe enough to leave the classroom. 

So Potter wasn’t discussing plots of revenge against Draco with Weasley, but a new question was now bulging in Draco’s mind. Just who exactly was _he_ , and what had he done to Potter? 

**X**

Draco watched Potter closer that night, more intrigued by the vague comment than he had anticipated. 

There were little things that he noticed almost immediately, like how Potter’s eyelashes were thick and lovely against his skin, and how the middle of Potter’s lower lip was redder than the rest, doubtlessly because of being bitten repeatedly; by both Draco and Potter, in fact. 

But there were more strange things that Draco hadn’t particularly noticed before. Potter’s lips were turned into a slight frown, for example, and when he wasn’t ordering Draco about, he somehow seemed _lost_. 

Admittedly, Draco had noticed that before, but he had always figured that Potter was lost in sub-space, or whatever it was called. Potter did appear to be a masochist, but upon closer inspection, Potter’s body language didn’t seem all too relaxed. 

His fingers trembled, and his head turned from side to side, and it was easy to see why at first glance it looked like Potter was just lost in the throes of passion, but every time Potter whimpered or shouted ‘stop’, his head would shake, his limbs would tense up, and his eyelids would twitch like he was in the middle of a nightmare. 

Or maybe Draco was just being paranoid. 

He stopped thrusting, and Potter’s eyes snapped open, alarmed. 

“Why have you stopped?” Potter asked, with a cautious look in his bright eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Draco questioned in response, watching Potter’s reaction carefully. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” 

“You’re supposed to,” Potter answered with a small laugh, as if it was obvious. “If I wanted you to stop, I’d use the safeword.” 

The safeword – a term for Potter to use if Draco went too far. Draco had been the one to suggest it, as well as being the one to talk Potter into agreeing to it, yet neither of them had ever considered that maybe Draco would have to use it, too. 

And Draco was sorely tempted to do so – but maybe he would wait, just for one more night. 

**X**

Draco didn’t just wait for one more night – he waited for several – and even then, the safeword wasn’t used. No, Draco handled the situation a lot worse than that. 

But Hell, Draco’s reaction wasn’t exactly uncalled for, because the fact was, Potter was just too fucked up for him. 

Draco had been concerned that perhaps Potter hadn’t been enjoying the fantasy, but was too polite to end it, until he said something that completely changed Draco’s mind. 

Bloody Potter had asked Draco to wrap his hands around his neck and choke him. Draco had felt sick, but gently placed a hand on Potter’s neck. Then Potter told him to do it tighter, and Draco couldn’t stand it anymore. 

He pulled out of Potter, his cock no longer even half-hard, Summoned his clothes, and hurriedly dressed while yelling at Potter about what a freak he was and that their arrangement had come to an end. 

Potter hadn’t even shouted back – he had just sat there, staring blankly at Draco as though he was just looking _through_ him. He flinched when Draco called him a freak, but Draco was too pissed off to feel guilty about it. 

And he was most definitely not feeling guilty now, not a chance. The rock in his stomach was almost certainly because he had been in contact with somebody so fucked up, and not because he in any way felt bad for Potter. 

Because why should he feel bad for Potter? He was just a fucked up little boy who would end up fucking men twice his age until one of them killed him in some sort of sexual deviancy gone wrong. Much better for Draco to get away from that while he could. 

**X**

“Malfoy! Malfoy!” called a voice that Draco really didn’t want to hear. “Malfoy, wait up!” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Potter,” Draco said dismissively, continuing his walk to his next lesson. 

“Malfoy, I’m sorry I went too far, alright,” Potter pressed on, ignoring Draco’s obvious rejection of the budding conversation. And damn, Potter was fast, already having caught up with Draco. “I just – can we just forget it and carry on?” 

Draco stopped walking so suddenly that Potter crashed into him, and he barely paid heed to the way Potter recoiled and jumped back with horror on his face; not that he didn’t notice, but at that moment in time it wasn’t Draco’s priority. 

“You are a fucked up freak, Potter,” Draco hissed, folding his arms across his chest angrily. “I think it’s better for you to stay away from me. Just because I’m a dominant doesn’t mean I don’t have limits, and you went too far.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Potter said desperately, and it was the wild look in his eyes that stopped Draco from walking away. “Listen, I _need_ for what we had to continue. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, and I swear I won’t get carried away again.” 

“Why? Why do you need it?” Draco demanded to know, his voice raising just enough to show he was angry but without drawing attention to them. “Why can’t you just find some other freak that’s into the same shit you are?” 

“I can’t tell you,” Potter cried, his voice breaking as if he was about to cry. His face was determined though, and if Potter was holding back tears, it was impossible to tell. “But it has to be you. Can’t you just trust me?” 

“Either you tell me why, or you can forget it,” Draco offered, but Potter’s stormy expression and utter silence soon gave Draco his answer. “I thought as much. And if you don’t want me telling Weasley and Granger your little secret, don’t bother me again, Potter.” 

**X**

It didn’t take long for Draco to realise that telling Potter not to bother him again was very problematic. The reason being, of course, that Draco _really_ wanted to know Potter’s secret. 

And it wasn’t even because he wanted something to blackmail Potter with – he had moved past that phase now – but because there was clearly something plaguing the Golden Boy, and it seemed like whatever it was, it was pretty big. 

A couple of days went by, and Draco was still mulling over Potter’s secrecy, bringing him to the conclusion that he had to find out what was wrong with Potter before he drove himself crazy. He had a right to know, surely, considering Potter’s secret was most likely the thing that fucked him up enough to ask Draco to choke him. 

So with a strong determination, Draco set out to stalk Potter. It was easy enough at first; nobody questioned him when he followed Potter and his friends from Potions class to the Great Hall, but the trio were instantly on alert when he followed them out into the grounds after lunch, and Draco had to quickly insult Weasley’s mother before striding past them like he had somewhere else to be. 

Draco tried again the next day, but it seemed that Potter didn’t go anywhere without Weasley or Granger, and usually they would both flank him like some kind of loyal guard dogs. 

In fact, Weasley seemed to be glaring at more of the students than he normally did, and Granger was walking as close as possible to Potter without actually touching him. Rather protective towards a teenager who had faced the Dark Lord and defeated him, and couldn’t possibly need saving from other children, Draco reasoned. Of course, he had never doubted that Weasley and Granger wouldn’t know what was up with Potter, but to see them so shielding of Potter was unusual. 

It was out of the question ask them though, considering that Weasley despised him, and Granger had been tortured by Draco’s aunt. 

So when Potter stopped to tie his laces, and waved Granger and Weasley ahead, Draco hung back until the pair disappeared around the corner. What he hadn’t expected was for Potter to stand up as soon as they were out of sight, and stride towards Draco instead. 

“Meet me in the Transfiguration classroom at eight tonight,” Potter told him. “So you can quit trying to stalk me now.” 

“I wasn’t-” Draco started to protest, but Potter was already walking away. Well, it wasn’t the way Draco wanted it to happen, but at least it looked like he was getting his way. 

**X**

Potter was already there when Draco arrived, sitting on the front desk and swinging his legs. Potter looked frighteningly pale and ill, and the tips of his fingers were red from how tightly he was clutching his hands together. 

“Alright, Potter?” Draco greeted blandly, his mind spinning with theories. 

Maybe Potter was dying, and had hoped Draco would accidentally strangle him to death and save him waiting out his illness. Or maybe he had been under the Imperius; no, that was stupid – everyone had heard about Potter fighting off the curse in fourth year. 

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” Potter mumbled quietly, rising from the desk. 

Draco didn’t bother to point out that it was Potter’s idea, because he was too busy rushing forwards to guide Potter into a seat before he collapsed. 

“Are you ill? It’s not contagious, is it?” Draco asked cautiously, watching as Potter gave him a sad smile. 

“Hermione says I’m ill, but I’m not contagious – it isn’t that type of illness,” Potter answered, his voice still unnaturally quiet. “Look Malfoy; you were right when you said I was fucked up. Hermione says it’s Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or something, but I think your term is much more fitting.” 

“Post-Trauma?” Draco repeated, the Muggle terminology foreign on his tongue. “Is that like, Depression caused by the war?” 

“In a sense,” Potter nodded. “My, err, my issues go a little bit further back than that though; a couple of months before the Final Battle.” 

“What happened?” Draco enquired, pulling up a chair to sit in front of Potter. Somehow, Potter went even paler at the sound of the question, and his clenched hands were trembling slightly. Draco fought off the urge to take Potter’s hands in his own and hold them steady, and instead concentrated on Potter, and fighting off the nausea that was building in his own throat. 

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone?” Potter asked seriously, and Draco nodded with complete honesty. The fact Potter was too distressed to consider the Unbreakable Vow was very telling, and Draco didn’t think it was wise to mess with him. 

“I was – I mean, wow, this is hard to say. Hermione and Ron both already knew, so I didn’t have to tell them and-” Potter continued, beginning to ramble as his tone lifted in pitch, and Draco suddenly realised he didn’t want to hear the answer, but he had been the one to push Potter to this. “I was…I was ra-, no, sorry, I can’t say it. I was…forced, by a- a man to…yeah.” 

It was like Draco had been drenched in icy water and the blood in his veins had frozen. Draco knew exactly what Potter meant, and Draco may have not liked Potter for years, but _rape_ was something he would never wish upon anyone, not even his worst enemy. 

“And the thing between you and me,” Potter pressed on, shaking his legs and keeping his eyes glued to the floor, “it made me relive it, and I know it’s really messed up, but I deserve to relive it, and remember all the pain and hurt, and how I was too useless to stop it-”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Draco breathed, feeling his heart ache desperately for Potter. But apparently Draco speaking had been a bad move, because it seemed to drive Potter back to reality. 

Potter’s eyes snapped to Draco, crazed and desperate, and then Potter was nothing but a blur as he raced past Draco. 

“Wait, Potter!” Draco cried out, running after Potter so fast he almost skidded on the floor. But then Draco nearly stumbled over the student in question, who was on his knees on the corridor floor, with his arms wrapped around his trembling form. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Potter whispered, curling in on himself even more. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. They should just lock me up and throw away the key; I’m so sorry.” 

“Po-Harry, listen,” Draco said gently, crouching down on the floor beside the trembling boy. “I can’t pretend that I understand what it’s like to be, well, you know, but I’m honestly sorry that you have to go through this. You didn’t deserve for it to happen to you, and I was wrong when I said you were fucked up; you obviously have a lot of stuff you need to work through. Does anyone else know how you’ve been, ah, _dealing_ , with it?” 

“No, just you,” Potter mumbled into his arms. 

“You said you feel sorry for dragging me into this?” Draco asked, and Potter nodded. “Well I know a way you can make it up to me – I want you to let me help you.” 

**X**

Draco found it impossible to get to sleep that night. Merlin, he had never once considered the possibility that Potter had been raped, but now he was alone in his bed, it made a lot of sense. 

The closed eyes, the masochistic demands, the request to be humiliated – Harry wanted Draco to treat him like that because it had happened before, and Harry believed that he deserved to relive it. 

That was probably the most disturbing part, in fact. How Harry could blame himself for such a horrible act was beyond Draco’s understanding, but maybe that meant he simply didn’t understand it enough. Draco understood that rape was an awful crime, perhaps even on par with murder, but he couldn’t truly know what it would be like to be a victim of it. 

And then there was the fact that Draco had told Harry he wanted to help him. Seeing the dark haired boy so worked up earlier had made Draco react instinctively; he wasn’t as heartless as people made him out to be, but something had made him want to help Harry further. 

Draco generally had a rule – don’t help anyone unless they’re someone important, or you’re getting something out of it in return. He and Harry weren’t particularly enemies anymore, given that they had saved each other’s lives, but they weren’t good friends either. Recently, they had had a complicated relationship which had mostly been built around sex, but that wouldn’t normally have been enough to prompt Draco to be helpful. 

Perhaps, Draco considered, he was simply doing the right thing. He hadn’t been able to raise his wand against Dumbledore, and he never inflicted any real damage upon anyone else either. Besides, Granger and Weasley clearly weren’t helping very well, and Harry would doubtlessly be much better off with Draco helping him work through things instead. Yes, that was it – Draco was offering himself because Harry at least deserved better than his loyal puppy friends. 

With that in mind, Draco finally fell into an uneasy sleep until he woke several hours later. Deciding he had enough time before breakfast, Draco showered and dressed so he could head down to the library. 

In the back corner of the library, there was a bookshelf that was usually crammed with books and ignored by most of the students. Now, a lot of the shelves had been cleared, and a weepy third year girl hurried away with a stack of books in her arms when she saw Draco appear. 

This bookshelf was home to the books on mental health and related external factors, and most of the books on Depression and anxiety had been cleared by the many students affected by the war. 

Thankfully, there were still plenty of books on the topic Draco wanted, and with a quick glance around to check he was alone, he pulled out a couple of books about the after effects of rape and sexual assault. 

Draco read through the list of common feelings that rape survivors might feel – depression, shame, guilt, embarrassment, powerlessness, fear, anxiety – and also saw that flashbacks were a common after effect. 

Draco could already see that Harry felt guilt and shame, and the orders he had given Draco before might have been as a result of feeling powerless. Draco assumed that when Harry said he wanted to relive the rape, he meant that he had flashbacks triggered through sex – flashbacks, the book described as seeing, hearing, and even smelling things from the attack, and these could be random or triggered by something. Draco couldn’t imagine being forced to relive something so horrific, and it said a lot that Harry felt like he deserved for that to happen. 

Further on, Draco read about something called Rape Trauma Syndrome, which was a collection of feelings, emotions, and behaviours brought about by the trauma of rape. Some of these behaviours Harry had already exhibited, such as avoiding talking about the rape and becoming easily distressed. There were others, such as not wanting to be alone, substance abuse, and self-destructive behaviours, and Draco supposed Harry was self-destructing by forcing himself to relive his attack. 

Draco shut the book, once again feeling nauseous. Harry had most likely been feeling highly distressed, and Draco had mocked him. Yes, he hadn’t known what had happened to Harry at the time, but that really hadn’t given him the right. 

All Draco knew then was that he _needed_ to help Harry, because he was the only one who knew how much Harry was truly hurting, and if he left him to his own devices, who knew what would happen. Draco’s previous thought about Harry getting himself killed didn’t seem too far off now, and it made Draco’s stomach twist violently. 

So, putting the books back on the shelves, arranging them so it looked like nobody had touched them, Draco set off to find Harry. 

**X**

It occurred to Draco, after he had to flag Harry down to meet him without Granger and Weasley noticing him, that maybe Granger and Weasley _had_ actually been walking with Harry more than usual. The book had mentioned fear of being alone, and seeing as they were the only other two who knew what had happened, it made sense for them to willingly jump in to protect Harry at any cost. 

“I did some reading,” Draco told Harry when they found an empty classroom. “It was about the after effects of, err, assaults like yours, and I want you to know that I don’t expect you to tell me anything you don’t want to. I just want to be here for you, you know, if you need anything or-”

“I want to be able to touch people without getting flashbacks,” Harry interrupted, his eyes staring distantly beyond Draco. “And I want to stop _living_ for those flashbacks, but they’re a reminder of the pain I deserve, and Ron and Hermione say I don’t deserve it, and I really wish I could believe them but I don’t.” 

“They’re right,” Draco commented, noticing the way Harry flinched slightly when he said that. “And you know it must be true if I’m agreeing with those two.” 

Harry said nothing in response to that, but glanced at Draco. 

“I would really like you to fuck me right now,” Harry said after a moment’s silence, and Draco violently shook his head. 

“I know you do,” he said. “But sex is obviously a trigger for you.” 

“Maybe I want to be triggered,” Harry retorted, making Draco frown. 

“I know you do,” Draco repeated. “And that’s what we’re trying to stop; to stop you hurting yourself. I can touch you if you want, but we’ll start small, and if you look like you’re being affected, we’ll stop, okay?” 

“Can I hold your hand?” Harry asked quietly, his tone somewhat childlike, and Draco nodded cautiously, taking hold of Harry’s hand as gently as he could. 

Harry’s skin was cold to the touch, and his fingers dug into Draco’s skin like he was afraid to let go. In retrospect, Draco was afraid of letting go, too. 

**X**

The next Hogsmeade weekend, Draco and Harry went together. 

Harry had requested it; apparently he felt guilty that Granger and Weasley were a couple but had to spend most of their time with Harry, so he had persuaded them to go on a date without him around. But Harry soon realised he didn’t want to be left alone in the castle, and said he felt safer with Draco. 

Draco had felt oddly touched by that sentiment, and agreed to go with Harry. 

They walked together through the snowy streets, bundled up in coats, scarves and gloves. Draco noticed that Harry only wanted to go in the shops that weren’t too crowded, and since Draco wasn’t too fond of most people, he didn’t have a problem with that. 

The morning went mostly well, and the conversation flowed easily between them. Looking at Harry based solely on that morning, it was impossible to tell that Harry was going through hell, and even more impossible to tell that Harry and Draco had once been enemies. 

Of course, nothing was ever easy, and the problems started when they decided to get out of the cold and go for a drink. They agreed straight off that the Three Broomsticks would be too crowded, and decided on the Hog’s Head, because although it was dingy, it was a lot quieter. 

Or so they had thought until they stepped inside. It seemed that the inn had increased in popularity since the war, and was filled to the brim with excited students. 

“Can we go?” Harry shouted nervously across the noisy chatter. 

Draco nodded, but as they turned to leave, an especially boisterous third year pushed past Harry, knocking him against the wall. 

All the colour seemed to drain from Harry’s face, and he had disappeared through the doors before Draco could even blink. 

Draco hurried after him, following him down an alley, and Harry stopped so suddenly that Draco almost ran past him. 

Harry held a shaky hand up, gesturing for Draco to keep his distance, but Draco was finding that really hard to do. 

Harry was trembling violently, and he had one hand clutched over his chest. His breathing was short and erratic, and sweat was beading on his forehead despite the icy chill. 

Draco watched helplessly for a moment, not knowing what to do. Harry’s eyes had slid shut, but when the first whimper escaped his mouth, Draco leapt into action. 

He stepped as close to Harry as he could while still giving him enough room, and placed his hand on Harry’s arm gently, hoping to break him out of his panic. Draco knew that Harry was having a panic attack, but he only wished he knew how to stop it. He knew what it was like to experience one first hand, so he thought it would be best to treat Harry the way he would have wanted to be treated. It was just so awful, though, seeing Harry look so terrified, and in that moment Draco wished he could jut Obliviate Harry to help him forget, but that would only cause worse problems at a later time. 

“Try and breathe, Harry, deep breaths,” Draco whispered soothingly. “You’re okay; I’m here for you.” 

“Make him stop, Draco, make him stop,” Harry cried out desperately, and Draco felt his heart smash into pieces at how scared Harry sounded. 

“You’re okay, Harry,” Draco repeated, wondering how he was managing to keep his voice so strong. “I’m here for you, whatever you need. Come on, keep breathing for me.” 

Harry’s breaths were starting to become more in control, but he was still shaking all over. 

After a few minutes passed, Harry finally opened his eyes, and looked at Draco with a gaze that pleaded for safety. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said after a few more minutes had passed, sniffing and wrapping his arms around his still trembling form. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Draco replied, leaving his hand on Harry, too afraid to let go. “I understand; it’s a normal reaction.” 

“It’s just, when it’s so unexpected, it makes it worse,” Harry murmured, shutting his eyes briefly. “When I could control the flashbacks, it was better in a way, I suppose. When they come on randomly, or something triggers me, I just get these flashes of what happened, all jumbled up, but it feels so real, like I’m there even though the flashes don’t make any sense. It feels like my memory of it has been shattered into pieces, and these parts are floating around, trying to fit together, but they just won’t fit. Before, with you, that was the only time I could get a clear view of things, and I could control when it happened and knew what to expect. I would lie back and watch, letting the hatred wash over me seeing how useless and pathetic I was to let it happen in the first place.” 

“You aren’t-” Draco started, but Harry quickly cut in. 

“I didn’t fight back, Draco, I didn’t fight back. You tell me now that I didn’t deserve it.” 

“You didn’t deserve it,” Draco said firmly, dropping his hand to hold Harry’s. “I promise you that, Harry – you did not deserve what happened to you.” 

For a second, Draco thought Harry was about to hit him, but then Harry dropped his head to Draco’s shoulder, and clutched his free hand in Draco’s shirt. 

“Let me stay like this until I’m ready,” Harry mumbled into Draco’s shirt, and Draco was willing to wait as long as Harry needed. 

A strong, protective urge washed over Draco, like all that mattered anymore was to keep Harry safe and not hurting. Draco wondered, as he held Harry, just when exactly he had fallen in love with him. 

**X**

“Did you hear that Weasley and Potter have fallen out?” Pansy said to Draco excitedly over breakfast, glancing over to the Gryffindor table. “Apparently they had a massive argument and Weasley stormed out of their dorm last night.” 

Draco followed Pansy’s gaze and noticed that Granger was sat rigidly by Harry’s side, but Weasley’s bright orange hair was nowhere in sight, and it was rather impossible to miss. 

“Does anyone know why?” Draco enquired, wondering why Weasley would choose to argue with Harry when he was in such a vulnerable state. Still, Weasley didn’t have much sense, so it wasn’t a stretch to believe. 

“Nobody knows,” Pansy answered with a frown. “I heard rumours that Potter got Weasley’s sister pregnant, but I heard she was back with Dean Thomas and he looks happy enough, so I doubt that’s true.” 

No, Draco didn’t think Harry would have willingly had sex with a girl, considering everything that had happened to him, but he was curious as to the cause of the argument. Upon seeing Granger and Harry leave the hall, he bid farewell to Pansy, who smiled at him proudly as though she knew exactly what he was doing, and casually followed the pair out of the Great Hall. 

He must have taken only a few steps out of the doors, when there was a blur of red and a hard body colliding with his. 

“You leave Harry alone, you hear me, Malfoy?” Weasley spat angrily, his fist curled in Draco’s shirt as he pinned him against the wall. “I saw the two of you in Hogsmeade, and I don’t want you anywhere near Harry again.” 

Was that really what their argument had been about? Seeing as they had mostly ignored each other up until now, Draco thought Weasley might have finally grown out of their own rivalry, but apparently not. 

“He was having a panic attack,” Draco stated furiously. “What did you want me to do? Just leave him there?” 

“You don’t know shit, Malfoy,” Weasley growled angrily, and Draco grimaced as spittle hit his face. 

“I’ve been there for Harry more than you have,” Draco argued back triumphantly, expecting Weasley to go even redder and angrier until he couldn’t speak, leaving Draco to win the fight. 

Instead, Weasley unclenched his fist from Draco’s shirt and stepped back, but his face was twisted in pure hatred. 

“If it hadn’t been for your father, you wouldn’t have to be,” Weasley said, oddly calm all of a sudden, and Draco felt the world freeze around him – _no_. 

Weasley didn’t look satisfied; in fact, his eyes were wet, and his hands were trembling. “Please, Malfoy, just let him forget,” Weasley said softly, and then he was gone. 

Draco didn’t know how long he stood there, ice cold and breathless, and eventually Pansy had to steer him to the hospital wing. 

All Draco could think was, his _father_ \- the one person he had looked up to - had done something so vile, and Harry, poor Harry, having to see Draco’s face every day as a constant reminder. 

Madame Pomfrey insisted on Draco staying the night, and Draco wordlessly let her fuss about getting him into a bed. He stared blankly out of the window until night fell and he couldn’t see anything but darkness anymore. 

**X**

“Draco?” a soft voice called through the darkness, and Draco’s stomach clenched when Harry appeared beside his bed. 

How could he even stand to look at Draco? 

“Ron told me what he told you,” Harry said after a moment of silence had passed between them. “I wanted you to know, that Lucius didn’t-I mean, he wasn’t the one to…”

His father wasn’t a rapist? Draco had hoped that warmth would fill him again upon hearing those words, and imagined that he would breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that the man he idolised wasn’t so wicked, but he still couldn’t fight off the uneasy feeling inside of him. 

“But he was involved, wasn’t he?” Draco asked, although he already knew the answer; Weasley was a lot of things, but a cruel liar wasn’t one of them. 

Harry sighed, and sat down on the edge of Draco’s bed. “I’m sorry,” Harry answered softly, playing with the edge of the bed sheets. “I never wanted you to find out. Lucius; he – he held me down, wrapped his fingers around my throat and told me-” Harry paused, taking a deep gulp as though he was fighting off a sob, and turned his watery eyes to Draco. “It was at your manor, while Bellatrix was torturing Hermione. Lucius must have recognised me too, because he and Greyback went down to the dungeons and took me away, removed the spell. Greyback said he wanted to have some fun with me, and then he…”

Harry clutched his hands in front of his face, shaking his head as he desperately fought off the tears that were fighting to fall. 

“It’s okay, Harry, it’s okay,” Draco said soothingly, placing a hand gently on Harry’s shoulder, checking his reaction. Harry looked thoroughly distressed, but he still seemed to be in the present, so Draco scooted closer to him, wrapping his arm more firmly around the trembling form. Draco had to know one thing though, and it was probably the wrong time to ask, but Draco had to know. “Is that why you chose me to…because of my father?” 

Harry shrugged loosely. “Partly,” he mumbled, looking away from Draco once more. “I thought it would make it more real, but mostly I thought that you were the person who might hate me enough to treat me like they did, but I was so, so wrong about you. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open because I realised you’re nothing like your father. His eyes were full of hatred and disgust, but you were just passionate, a bit confused at first, maybe, but far kinder than I could have imagined. And now – now you’re the one who understands me better than anyone, even my best friends, and I’m sorry I expected worse from you. You deserved better than that.” 

“Don’t think like that,” Draco said firmly, speaking his honest thoughts. “You had every reason to expect me to treat you like that, especially considering who I have for a father. You’re hurting, and there’s nothing wrong with you for trying to deal with the pain. Trust me, Harry; nothing in any of this is your fault. It’s not your fault.” 

Harry twisted around and threw his arms around Draco, burying his face in his shoulder. Draco held onto Harry tightly, mumbling into his hair. “It’s not your fault,” he said, over and over, because it was the truth, and Harry needed to believe that. 

**X**

Harry refused to speak any more about what happened in the hospital wing, and spent the next few days just hanging out with Draco as though they were just a normal couple; at least, a couple in Draco’s eyes. He wasn’t quite sure how Harry would define them, but being a couple would make sense, wouldn’t it? They had had sex, and seen each other at their worst, and spent a lot of time together, but still, Draco didn’t want to jump to any conclusions and make Harry feel pressure off him. It should be something for Harry to decide, although for Draco just to _think_ they were a couple surely didn’t do any harm. 

“Weasley hasn’t come around yet, then?” Draco asked as they lounged on a transfigured bed together in an unused classroom. It wasn’t the most secure of places, but it was better than anything else. 

“No, he can’t understand why I want to be around you,” Harry answered with a small shrug. “He’s not so much angry at me as he as at you.” 

Draco didn’t exactly blame Weasley for that; after all, he had a lot of reasons to hate the Malfoy family. 

“We ought to get going now, anyway,” Draco said reluctantly, knowing curfew was coming up soon. Harry nodded and sat up, stretching his arms above his head as he did so, and the movement revealed a patch of Harry’s wrist – pale skin, marred with red lines. “Harry, what’s that on your wrist?” 

Harry immediately brought his arm down and tugged his sleeve as far down his hand as it would reach. 

“Nothing,” Harry said hurriedly, getting to his feet. 

Instinctively, Draco reached out to grab Harry’s arm, wincing when Harry flinched. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Draco apologised, releasing Harry’s arm. “Please, let me see.” 

He already had an idea of what Harry was hiding, and Harry must have known that, because he shut his eyes and rolled his sleeve up. 

Bloodied cuts marred Harry’s wrist and forearm, some already fading into scars, and others much more recent. There were some that were deeper than others, but the worst ones were the ones spelt into a word: _slut_.

Draco’s mouth had gone dry, and he looked desperately at Harry, hoping Harry would tell him what he wanted to know – why? 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry mumbled, tugging his sleeve back down. “You’re trying to help me, and all I keep doing is fucking things up.” 

Harry sank back onto the bed, watching Draco with sorrowful eyes. 

“I can’t get those clear flashbacks anymore,” Harry continued, wringing his hands together. “But I just feel _so_ guilty _all_ the time, and I can’t stand going on with my life, acting like I don’t deserve to be punished.” 

“Harry, you don’t deserve it,” Draco said exasperatingly, trying really hard not to lose his patience, because he knew it wasn’t Harry’s fault that he never believed what Draco told him. “Freezing during a-a rape is natural; I did some reading on it. Just because you didn’t fight doesn’t mean-”

“It wasn’t just me I was fighting for though, was it?” Harry retorted, raising his voice louder than Draco had heard it for a long time. “Hermione was above me, screaming under the Cruciatus. I could have managed to get away from Greyback and save her, but I didn’t fight back which meant I couldn’t save her. You know, she has nightmares and flashbacks, too, but she refuses to tell me about them because she thinks I have it worse. Can you believe that? I’ve told her she’s wrong, and that I don’t deserve her sympathy, and how she should hate me for not fighting to save her, but she won’t listen to me!” 

“Because she knows you’re wrong,” Draco stated firmly, turning Harry’s head to look him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you, Harry, because you did not deserve it in the slightest. Greyback is a vicious, sadistic fiend, but you survived. You made it through, and got you and your friends, Hermione included, out of the Manor. You’re putting Hermione above you now because of how much you care for her, and she’s doing the same for you, because you are worth caring about. You are so strong, Harry, and you are a survivor. I just wish you could see how amazing you are, and stop hurting yourself, because you don’t deserve any of this pain.” 

Harry stared at Draco for a moment. 

And the next thing Draco knew, Harry was hugging him tightly, crying desperately into his shoulders. 

Draco had seen Harry holding back tears many times, and was amazed at the number of times Harry had managed to hold himself together when Draco knew he wouldn’t have been able to, and it was a sign of just how much Harry was hurting now that he was allowing himself to cry in front of Draco. 

Draco held Harry closely, kissing the top of his head and whispering soothing comments. 

“It will all be okay,” Draco murmured into Harry’s hair, fighting back his own tears. “I promise; everything will be okay.” 

**X**

Harry seemed to be avoiding Draco after that night. 

In fact, he hadn’t been seen by anyone other than the Gryffindors, because he had apparently barricaded himself in his dormitory. 

Draco hadn’t been able to concentrate on his lessons the last couple of days, and hadn’t really been able to stomach anything to eat either. Had he said something wrong to Harry? Had he pushed Harry too far? Had Harry’s self-harming got so out of hand that he had severely injured himself? 

Draco didn’t even bother to deny that he was worried sick, and was actually contemplating asking Granger, when Weasley approached him. 

“How is he?” Draco asked instantly, and Weasley grimaced. 

“Not good,” the redhead replied grimly. “Look, Malfoy, I honestly don’t know how Harry can stomach the sight of you – I certainly can’t – but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, you’ve done Harry a world of good; up until now, I mean. I don’t really know why he’s suddenly gone so downhill when he was doing so well, but I was thinking, err, if you wanted, you could come and try and, you know, talk to him.” 

Draco bit back a retort about Weasley grovelling, and instead nodded and followed Weasley up to Gryffindor tower. 

Harry was the only one in the dorm, hidden behind his bed’s drawn curtains. 

“Harry?” Draco called out, nodding at Ron who left after a worried glance at Harry’s bed. “What’s wrong?” 

“Please, leave me alone,” came Harry’s reply, muffled as though his face was buried in a pillow. 

But Draco was nothing if not determined, and he pulled the curtains apart. Harry was, indeed, lying face down, but his head twisted to the side so he could look at Draco. Harry’s eyes were red-rimmed but dry, and his fingers reached out for Draco before thoughts got the better of him and he pulled his arm back to his body. 

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Draco said quietly, perching himself on the edge of the bed. “And I would like to apologise if I’ve said anything that-”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Draco,” Harry interrupted, shifting so he could sit up. “I’m just too fucked up, and I think you’re better off away from me.” 

“I don’t agree,” Draco retorted, and Harry smiled a humourless smile. “Come on; try me. See if you can scare me off.” 

“Fine,” Harry sighed, fixing Draco with a stern gaze as if he expected Draco to bolt at any given second. “Let’s say you were…were ra- _forced_ by somebody while someone else held you down. Then the son of the person who pinned you down came into your life, and made it seem like everything might be okay in the end. And somewhere along that road, you started to fall for that son, even though you’re a constant reminder to him about what sort of person his father is.” 

Draco’s heart somehow managed to leap and fall at the same time. Harry had fallen for him? And Harry had fallen for him, but rather than worrying about Draco reminding Harry of Lucius, Harry worried that he would remind _Draco_ of Lucius? Oh, they said that Harry’s big heart was his weakness, but that heart had saved the Wizarding World, and that heart made Draco fall more and more in love with him every day. And Harry’s priorities were so messed up, and as far from selfish as it was possible to be, and Draco would have loved to crawl into bed with Harry and just hug him and keep him safe from the world, but Harry needed better than that; he needed to heal, not hide. 

“Well,” Draco said, realising that Harry was anxiously staring at him. “I would say the son is also fucked up, because he has fallen for that other person as well. And I mean, the son has a _few_ issues, but he isn’t fucked up, _really_ , so therefore the other isn’t as fucked up as he thinks he is, and by that I mean, he isn’t fucked up at all.” 

Harry smiled again, this time with genuine amusement, and Draco thought that Harry had never been so beautiful. 

“But what if I’m never ready to have normal sex again, or you get fed up of my panic attacks or-?” Harry started, smile fading, but Draco cut him off. 

“I will never get fed up of you,” Draco smiled, raising Harry’s hand and kissing it. “You are the strongest, most amazing person I know, Harry, and I will be with you every step of the way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please return to [LIVEJOURNAL ](http://hd-hurtfest.livejournal.com/)to leave a comment there. Feel free to leave a comment here, too. :)


End file.
